My wants are many,
my desires - endless;
yet my needs are few.
Of that which I have,
I take what I need;
of that which remains,
are portions for you.
Wealth can be a great blessing if we choose to spread good cheer and pay it forward by redistributing it among those who are truly in need.
Abdullah ibn Amr reported: The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “The merciful will be shown mercy by the Most Merciful. Be merciful to those on the earth and the One in the heavens will have mercy upon you.”
Source: Sunan al-Tirmidhī 1924
In sha Allah,
Coronever you may.
Fast by day.
This is the way.
Fatwa ruling by Shaikh Mufti Babyyoda Al-Jedi. 🤣🤣🤣
Dua's requested, pleases and thank yous in advance.
I chase after balloons without a second thought. I break into a full sprint down the street, across a parking lot, onto a busy road, just about anywhere, don't care who sees, don't care who stares. I once caught two balloons on the same day within about 5 minutes of each other. It was a great day.
Spontaneity - the game within the game. Thrills and Joys abound. The rewards can be profound. Play at your own risk.
Are we not all of us mere visitors upon this Earth,
here but only for a few brief moments,
awaiting an end to our exile,
anticipating the return to our ancestral home,
the Celestial Domicile,
the Heavenly Abode from whence we came,
the birthplace of our spirits,
the sanctuary of our souls?
Inspired by way of response to "stranger" by Arozo.
Time has given up on me
And so has gravity,
As I float through
The barriers of time.
Floating through the past,
Never settling anywhere
A stranger even in
My own memories
Don’t mind me, I’m
Just passing through
I’ll be gone soon.
And in my sleep, I am wide awake.
My dreams are vivid, my dreams are many.
I live and die a thousand lives, each as real as any.
Waking up with extreme brain fatigue, feeling like all the brainpower was drained due to the countless high paced, action packed dreams your mind was racing through can be rather unsettling, especially when you are trying to just rest the old mind engine for a full day of productivity.
I raise the pick-axe high up above my head.
I bring it back down with all my might.
I hear an audible thud at it pierces into the ground.
I change my grip.
The soil turns over as I pry it out of the ground.
I smile to myself in satisfaction at the sight of the churning soil.
It is a calm, soothing sight, worth the magnitude of the effort required to produce it.
I change grips as I ready myself and raise the pick-axe high up above my head once more.
I am the artist,
the Earth my canvas.
The pick-axe is my brush,
the chaos my muse.
Seeds will be sown
and vegetation will be grown.
Spoils will be shared
and cheer will be spread.
But for all the good that is done,
I am the one having all the fun,
for this sight is for me,
this art is my own.
Digging the ground is surprisingly soothing. And extremely tiring. But worth the effort, all the same.